


Beneath the Weeping Willow

by sherrllocked



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 07:58:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5120846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherrllocked/pseuds/sherrllocked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of a boy and his dog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beneath the Weeping Willow

John and Sherlock had been standing by the huge tree at the lake on Sherlock’s family estate when John turned to Sherlock, who had been awfully quiet since approaching the tree and asked,  “Would you like to talk about it?”

******

He still remembers the day Mycroft had brought the little red ball of fur into his room and deposited him on his lap.

“What’s this?” Sherlock sniffed, looking up through the tears.  He had been bullied again at school today and no matter how hard Mycroft had tried to get him to talk about it or to take his mind off of it, nothing seemed to work.  He hoped this would be different.

“A project for you, if you will.  The butler had found him in the bushes by the service entry this morning, Seems the mother has abandoned him.  The butler says he won’t last the day.  I think you can prove him wrong.”

Sherlock sniffled and wiped his eyes with one hand as the little dog shivered and nestled closer to its new found heat source.

“Why do you think I can prove him wrong?  I’m not good at anything.” Sherlock finally bit out.

“Oh, you and I both know that isn’t true Sherlock.  You are quite ingenious and always know how to solve a puzzle.  I think this one should prove easy for you.  Besides, I think he needs you as much as you need him. Now, don’t let mummy know you have him, at least not yet.  You know how she feels about such things.”  And with that, Mycroft stood and patted Sherlock’s curls and disappeared from his room.

The first thing Sherlock did was a general examination of the small puppy.  He wasn’t the tiniest thing Sherlock had ever laid eyes on but he was small, and squirmy, and mewling.  Well, he thought to himself, I know how to fix this.  He carefully cradled the wee pup in his arms as he dug an old soft blanket out of his closet and a box.  He made a make shift bed for the little pup and then debated on what the best thing to feed him was.  He knew milk was out of the question but he also knew that two houses down, lived a vet. He quickly pulled on his shoes and coat and his the box in his closet and set off for the house down the street. He walked into the clinic that they ran from the house and asked for a month’s supply of puppy formula and some feeding syringes. When questioned what he wanted them for, he just said an experiment and promised to bring his findings down in a month or so if it worked.

That night began the first of many nights that Sherlock nursed this little unwanted puppy back to health.  He hadn’t dared to give it a name until one day, he had fallen asleep while feeding the puppy and the puppy had crawled up and began to lick his face to wake him.

“Stop that tickles you!” Sherlock admonished as the puppy began to lick his nose.  He sat up and scooped the pup up into his arms and marveled at how big he was getting.  It had been a month now and Sherlock was sure that he needn’t fear coming home from school anymore to find that the puppy had passed away while he was at school, so he decided to pay the vet a visit and find out.  Then he would figure out how to ask his mummy to keep the puppy.

He had almost gotten caught sneaking the puppy out of the house, but was relieved when he made it outside without being noticed.  He received glowing reviews from the vet, the puppy was healthy and was out of the woods as long as he found a loving home and Sherlock told him, he was working on that and then the vet offered to give the puppy the shots it would need to help keep him healthy since Sherlock had done such a wonderful job taking care of him so far, and this pleased Sherlock because he knew the shots were necessary but didn't have a way to pay for them.

Going home however, was trickier because when he walked up the drive way, he saw mummy was home.  He decided to use the service entry to try and sneak in but to no avail was caught by mummy standing there demanding to know what Sherlock was holding in his arms.

“It’s Redbeard!” he said, albeit a little too loudly, “and he’s mine!”  

“Sherlock love,” mummy began, “I didn’t say you couldn’t keep him, I just would like to know why you felt the need you had to hide him from us.”

Sherlock bit his lip and looked down at the floor.  “Because I didn’t think you would let me keep him.”

“Well, you have named him and been taking care of him for what now, a month?”  She asked.

Sherlock stomped his foot angrily, “Mycroft told you didn’t he!?”  

“No love, Mr. Walker called me the first night you paid him a visit.  I told him to go ahead and give you what you would need to take care of the puppy and that I would take care of the bill.  Now, as long as you promise to look after him and train him and clean up after him, Redbeard can stay.  If however, you neglect him, then we will have to find another home for him.”

Sherlock’s eyes lit up and he shook his head fiercely.  “I promise I will look after him mummy.” He squealed as he headed for his room.

And so began the journey of Sherlock and Redbeard.  Redbeard became the best friend a boy, especially a boy like Sherlock could ever have. Where Sherlock was years ahead of all the other boys which caused them to make fun of him, he could always count on Redbeard to lift his spirits when he came home from school.  There was always some new adventure for them to share in or some new book to read.  As the pair grew up, their adventures changed and when Sherlock took an interest to science, Redbeard would be right there sitting at his feet listening as Sherlock would bounce ideas off of him.

Until one day, Redbeard hadn’t greeted him as usual when he came home from school that day.  Sherlock had searched the entire house and found him up in his closet, curled up by the blanket that served as his first bed.

Sherlock had seen the signs of his best friend growing older and slowing down, but he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it.  Just like when Mycroft had put him in his lap that first night.  If he didn’t name him, then he wasn’t really his, until he was. That little puppy had captured Sherlock’s heart that day and never left and Sherlock still remembered sitting up with him through those first nights making sure he was warm enough and still breathing.  It wasn’t until he actually named him that Sherlock called Redbeard his dog, and now here they were 11 years later, back where they began, sitting in Sherlock’s closet on the floor with Redbeard wrapped in that soft blanket.

He needn’t make a trip down the road to Mr. Walker’s, he had known this was coming, so he scooped Redbeard up in his arms and  took him over to his bed and laid down with him.  He laid there all night, telling him how he was the best friend that he would ever have and how he would never find another friend like him, but he would try when the time was right, and in the morning when he woke and Redbeard didn’t, he bundled him up in his favourite blanket and took him down to their favourite spot at the lake and buried him there beneath their favourite weeping willow tree.

******

Sherlock moved closer and pointer to a spot, “This is the spot right here.  This is where Redbeard is buried.  There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by that I don’t miss him.”

John wrapped his arms around Sherlock and pulled him in for a hug.  “He was a lucky dog to have found you, and it sounds like he had a happy life with you.”

“I hope he did.”

“I know he did.” John said.

“How can you be so certain?”

“Because I can relate to him.”

“John, he was a dog.”

”True, he was a lonely, sick puppy when Mycroft brought him to you and then you nursed him back to health and then he got to live out the rest of his days by your side being happy, just like I plan to do.”

“Do you really mean that?” Sherlock asked.

“Of course I do Sherlock. I love you and without you my life has no direction, so if you’ll have me, I’d like to spend the rest of our lives together.”

Sherlock reached out and pulled him close, "I never want to be without you."

John tilted his head upwards and reached up caressing Sherlock's cheek, "You never have to be, I'm here and I'll always be with you till the very end."

Sherlock leaned forward and before their lips came together, he made a promise back, "The two of us always, until the very end."

 


End file.
